


Knocking On Heaven's Door

by KandiSheek



Series: Cap/IM Bingo 2020 [2]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Attempt at Humor, Awesome May Parker (Spider-Man), Bickering, Cap_Ironman Bingo 2020, M/M, Magic, Old Married Couple, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Poor Life Choices, Snarky Tony Stark, Summoning, Swearing, Teenage Drama
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-22
Updated: 2020-12-22
Packaged: 2021-03-10 22:28:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28244712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KandiSheek/pseuds/KandiSheek
Summary: “We're not here to steal your soul,” Steve said and Peter relaxed marginally. “But now that you're here we can't let you leave without a deal. Those are the rules.”“A deal?” Peter echoed, his heart pounding. “But I just wanted to talk!”Tony raised an eyebrow. “You summoned demons, not a hotline.”Or: Peter tries to talk to angels. He doesn't quite get what he expects.
Relationships: Steve Rogers/Tony Stark
Series: Cap/IM Bingo 2020 [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1911595
Comments: 22
Kudos: 151





	Knocking On Heaven's Door

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic fill for the Cap/IM bingo and just the square I needed to get my FIRST BINGO! WAHOO! The square is "Writing Format: Change of Language Register". Rated M for Tony's potty mouth.
> 
> If you're interested in my other fills so far (which are all art) you can check them out right [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kandisheek-art) and [here](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/kandisheek). Thanks for reading and I hope you enjoy this one!

The thing was, Peter didn't really believe in magic. There was no concrete proof to back up its existence and Peter was too fond of hard facts to suspend his disbelief.

But he also trusted his friends. And when Ned told him his weird hoodoo magic trick had actually garnered _results_ , well. There was nothing wrong with trying it for himself, right?

So it was really Ned's fault that Peter found himself hunched over his bedroom floor that night, surrounded by candles and drawing squiggly hieroglyphs onto the floor. It felt as ridiculous as it sounded, but Ned had sworn up and down that it would work and told him about all the things the angels had said to him when he asked them about his future. It sounded like a dangerous thing to dabble with but, well.

Peter needed to know. If he didn't he'd never have the balls to ask MJ to prom and how the hell else was he supposed to figure out if she liked him or not, it wasn't like he could read minds or something. No, this was his only shot at getting a straight answer and if he didn't do it now someone else might ask her first. He couldn't let that happen.

"Okay, here we go," Peter said, his fingers trembling slightly as he completed the sigil, drawing the last looping letter of the enchantment –

A beam of light burst from the floor, knocking him backwards as a deep hum filled the room, so loud that Peter had to cover his ears, eyes squeezed firmly shut against the overwhelming brightness –

Until it suddenly stopped. Peter blinked his eyes open as slowly as possible, sitting up abruptly when he realized that he wasn't in his room anymore.

He looked around and could see nothing but white, so uniform and pristine that if he wasn't still sitting down he wouldn't have even realized that there was a floor in all of this... nothingness. It was beyond disconcerting.

"Halt, traveler!"

Peter whipped around, scooting backwards when he saw two men in front of him, dressed in white robes that went all the way down to the floor. They stood in front of what looked like a stone gate, although beyond it Peter could see nothing but more of the same white room.

"State your purpose or be on your way," the man with the beard continued and Peter swallowed heavily when he saw metal glint at his side. A sword?

"I, uh." Peter cleared his throat. "I wanted to ask. Questions."

"The nature of which are to be kept secret from anyone but the Allfather, I am sure?" Peter nodded dumbly and the man flung his arms wide. "Very well! To pass through this gate you must answer me these riddles three!"

"Oh boy, here we go," someone mumbled and Peter flinched, looking up at the blond man – who looked... annoyed? That couldn't be good.

"One of us tells the truth," the brunette continued, his voice booming through the endless space before his eyes narrowed. "And the other one only tells _lies!"_

The blond man groaned. "Jesus Christ, Tony, I said I was sorry!"

The brunette – Tony – glared at him. “Yes. And I'm still pissed!”

“I thought it would be funny.”

“Well, I'm not fucking laughing, am I?”

“Um...” They both whipped around to Peter who shrunk under their combined glares. “Can I... I'm sorry, who are you?”

Tony clicked his tongue, hissing at the blond. “This isn't over.”

“Oh joy,” the other man mumbled as Tony spread his arms, his robe fluttering even though there was no wind anywhere around them.

“We are the gatekeepers! Answer our riddles and you may pass through the heavenly gates!”

“You said that already.”

“Would you shut up?” Tony snapped and Peter looked between them like he was watching a tennis match. “I'm trying to do my fucking job here!”

“You keep bringing it up! I apologized at least three times –“

“Well, your apologies suck!”

“Not as much as your sense of humor!”

“Ex _cuse_ me?”

“I was trying to summon an angel,” Peter blurted out and they both stared at him for a moment before Tony lowered his head, pinching the bridge of his nose with a sigh.

“For fuck's sake. Another one of those.”

“Just stick to the script,” the blond said and Tony groaned.

“Oh my god, shut up, Steve! We went off script ten fucking minutes ago!”

“You don't seem like angels,” Peter said carefully, looking up at the blond – Steve – who sighed, giving him a wry smile.

“We used to be. If that helps.”

Peter looked from one to the other, his blood running cold when he realized that this meant – “Oh my god, you're _demons!”_

Tony rolled his eyes. “Barely. There are way worse motherfuckers than us, trust me.”

Peter stumbled to his feet, panic welling up when he realized that he couldn't run, there was literally _nothing_ around him, _fuck_ – “I wanted to talk to angels!”

Tony shrugged. “They keep pushing these calls on us. Lazy bastards.”

“We're not here to steal your soul,” Steve said and Peter relaxed marginally. “But now that you're here we can't let you leave without a deal. Those are the rules.”

“A deal?” Peter echoed, his heart pounding. “But I just wanted to talk!”

Tony raised an eyebrow. “You summoned demons, not a hotline.”

“No, I know, I – but I thought I –“

Tony sighed heavily. “Jesus fuck. Just spit it out!”

“Patience is a virtue, Tony,” Steve said and Tony groaned, throwing his hands up.

“Oh my god! Shut up with your fucking virtues! That's what got us here in the first place!”

Peter blinked. “You weren't... born here?”

Tony gave him a look like Peter just grew a second head. “Are you high?”

“I – what?”

Tony huffed, swinging his arm at the blank space around them. “Does this look like a fucking birth place to you?”

“No, I – no.” Peter looked from Tony to Steve and back again. “But I thought... isn't this heaven?”

Tony stared at him for a long moment before he barked a laugh, slapping his knee. “Oh my god! Heaven! Can you fucking – holy shit!” He was laughing too hard to go on so Steve spoke up.

“This isn't heaven. We're in limbo right now, it's adjacent to hell.”

“Oh.” A shudder ran down Peter's spine at the thought of being so close to hell. “So why are you... here?”

“Because we're damned, genius,” Tony said, his chuckles finally dying down as he grimaced. “It's not as fancy as it sounds.”

There was nothing fancy about being damned, but Peter was wise enough not to mention that. "So, uh... what got you... damned?"

Tony rolled his eyes. "Lying. Stole some shit maybe. Who knows."

Peter nodded slowly, turning to Steve who was... bright red.

"Come on, say it," Tony needled with a broad grin on his face and Steve huffed, mouth twisting into an annoyed frown.

"I don't see how that has anything to do with –"

“Say it!” Tony crowed and Steve groaned, turning his face to the sky as he muttered under his breath.

“Sexua–“

"Sexual deviance!" Tony shouted, breaking into a cackling laugh as he kept clapping Steve on the shoulder so hard that it looked painful. Steve didn't move a muscle. "He – oh my god, fuck, I'm fucking dying –"

"Shut up," Steve snapped, shoving Tony away. "You were there for my fucking deviance, you have no leg to stand on."

"Yeah, phew, sorry, sorry," Tony said as his laughter finally died down to chuckles. "Aw, man. That never gets old."

“Anyway,” Steve said loudly, turning back towards Peter with a stern expression. “We need to make a deal. What's your wish?”

Peter had the bizarre thought that he could really go for some pancakes right now... He shook his head. “I don't want anything.”

Tony frowned. “Well, you called us, we can't just let you leave without a deal.”

Cold sweat ran down the back of Peter's neck. “And if I... um. If I refuse?”

“You can't.” Tony shrugged. “Sorry, bucko. Eternal damnation for you.”

“You can't do that!” Peter shouted, panic rising in him like a wildfire. “I was trying to summon angels! I didn't even want to be here.”

Steve looked him up and down before he nodded slowly. “He's technically right, Tony. We need to file a report for a missed connection.”

Tony groaned heartily. “But that's so much work!”

“It's our job.”

“Ugh!” Tony wiped a hand across his face, grumbling mulishly. "Fuck this, man, we should just throw him in the pit."

Peter felt his blood run cold, taking a stumbling step back when Steve brought his hand up – but he just gripped the bridge of his nose.

"The chute is under _construction_ , Tony, I've told you that at least three times this week."

"Well, what are we supposed to do then?"

They both stared at him and Peter fidgeted uncomfortably.

"Maybe, uh..." He swallowed. "You could just... let me go?"

Tony blinked before a broad grin spread across his face. "Fuck yeah! C'mon, Steve, let's just not file a report. Less work for us."

Steve frowned. "The protocol is important for –"

Tony made a fart noise, pulling Steve into his side. "Paperwork shmaperwork. Come on, let's just turn in early. I'm tired anyway."

Steve gave Peter a dubious look. "What if he tells someone?"

"I won't tell anyone," Peter said right on cue and Tony gestured at him with an 'I told you so' look.

"See? No problem."

Steve sighed, massaging his temples as if to ward of a headache. "Fine. I'll take his memories to make sure though."

"What?" Peter squeaked and Tony waved him off.

"Don't worry, he's pretty good at it. Just don't move or you might end up resetting."

"What the hell does that mean?" Peter asked hysterically and Tony grinned, waving at his head.

"Nothing up here. Clean slate."

Peter's throat pulled tight with panic and he was just about to make a run for it when Steve lifted his right hand, a blue glow emanating from it.

"This will only hurt a second," Steve said and Peter barely had time to throw his arms up before there was a flashing light and –

Something smelled like bacon.

Peter groaned, blinking his eyes open to stare blearily at his ceiling right before aunt May knocked on the door.

"Rise and shine, sleepyhead! Food's getting cold!"

"I'm coming," he shouted hoarsely, rubbing at his hair as he got out of bed, almost stumbling over an old book on the floor.

"What the hell," he mumbled when he saw the title, shaking his head as he kicked it under the bed to think about later. Maybe Ned had left it there or something.

"I'll eat your share if you don't hurry up!"

"Just a second," Peter shouted, pulling on a pair of sweatpants and a t-shirt over his boxers before he pushed the door open.

"–nt have to undress him, you know."

"Yeah, well, apparently he sleeps naked, so –"

Peter whipped around, the hair on the back of his neck standing up –

But there was no one there. His heart was pounding, anxiety crawling in his stomach until he heard the same two voices arguing through the open window.

"You know, it's been years since you took me here. We never go out anymore."

"That's because you keep misbehaving wherever we go."

“ _Excuse_ me? I'm not the one who -"

Peter shook his head, closing the window with a quiet click.

"Your eggs are history! I'm starting in on the bacon!"

"I'm coming!" Peter shouted as he finally made his way to the breakfast table, not noticing the flash of white light outside his window. "Hey, aunt May. Are there pancakes?"


End file.
